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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544411">Lost in Azeroth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackhurstManor/pseuds/BlackhurstManor'>BlackhurstManor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>WoW: The Resurrectionists [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cravin' some lightforged, Developing Relationship, Doggy Style, Draenei, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fantasy, For the Alliance!, Gilneas, Interspecies Sex, Kaldorei - Freeform, Nelf Himbo, Night Elf, Nsfw wow, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Original Character-centric, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:33:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackhurstManor/pseuds/BlackhurstManor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Darkshore, Worgen huntress Lady Veronica Blackhurst fell into easy companionship with an elder Lightforged Draenei named Ivaan. The two traveled together across Azeroth and grew closer. She was young and ferocious and wounded; he was wise and calm and reliable. In time, warm banter became something more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Worgen/Male Night Elf | Elves (Warcraft)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>WoW: The Resurrectionists [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hurried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> This isn’t like me at all, </em>Veronica thought, palms and cheek pressed to the cool stone wall of her lodgings. Behind her, the night elf pulled her breeches down past the flare of her hips and knelt.</p><p>His name was -- well, she didn’t remember. As if by some internal compass, Veronica had somehow found a pub catering to the kaldorei here in the heart of the great dwarven city of Ironforge. Her years as a welcome refugee among them had built a trust in Veronica that rivaled even her trust of other Gilneans, and when she stepped in the door and saw those faces, a weight lifted from her chest. Her conception of <em> home </em> had been severely rewritten several times in her life, but whatever this was felt close.</p><p>He reminded her faintly of a kaldorei lover she had taken long ago; long black hair pulled back from a smooth, deep blue face of serene handsomeness. He had broad shoulders and a tapered waist and like many of his kind, he could have passed for 30, or 500, or 5,000 years old. Whatever his true age, his presence was of sincere interest and watchful patience. She had lasted two drinks’ worth of small talk and veiled innuendo before she took his hand and led him out.</p><p>The night elf gripped the wide curves of her ass and spread them for his searching tongue. She curled her fingers against the stone and when he wetly kissed her lower lips, she stifled the moan that threatened to shatter the loud silence of the room. Ivaan was just downstairs, presumably asleep, and there was not even a single door to stifle the sounds she might make…</p><p>Veronica’s eyes opened, her thoughts were anywhere but in that room. The night elf’s expert tongue dripped with her as he dragged it up to the tight pucker of her ass, and her teeth bit deeper into her bottom lip.</p><p>“Please,” she whispered in an exhale. Veronica heard the crouching night elf begin to unbuckle his breeches while his tongue pressed at her entrance.</p><p>She shut her eyes and widened her stance as he straightened behind her. The night elf took her hip in hand while the other guided the slick tip of his cock to her quim.</p><p>“Please,” she whispered again, a prayer she willed to carry through the very stones of the place to the room below. “I need you to fuck me.”</p><p>The night elf took her. She was not quiet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Unhurried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ivaan is not asleep downstairs when Veronica brings her lover-for-the-night to their door.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When she leaves, Ivaan sits in meditation. It passes some time, at least, before he tucks into the bed; if Veronica is not here to sleep now, he will allow himself the comfort of a mattress and pillow.  He could have gone with her, yes, but she is, as she is so keen to remind him, youthful; she deserves to go out and do whatever it is she wishes in Ironforge tonight without consideration for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is not a selfish man. If he were, he would have urged them out of the city tonight, closer to the wilderness, but he chose this place deliberately. Here, she can… well. She can do as she chooses, and he is not yet asleep when her choices lead her, giggling and purring, to the doorway of this place he has rented for the night. He hears her footsteps on the stairs. He hears a man with her, his voice low and pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears them, as he lays in that bed, Veronica’s gasping breaths and the man’s deep grunts, the slapping of flesh and the trembling rise of her voice in sensual pleas. Ivaan grips the stone sides of the bed, feels his blood rush hot through his veins, throb in his cock.  He is not stupid. He knows what she is doing, knows she knows, too, and it is a perverse pleasure to be teased so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if, he thinks, he went up there?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before they have finished, above, he moves to the carpet on the floor, curls onto his side to hide the tell-tale physical signs of his arousal. A blanket tugged over himself and one arm folded beneath his head serves as comfort enough; he is a soldier, and he has slept in worse places. He watches the steady play of shadows against the wall at the top of the stairwell, what of it he can see, her shape indistinct but for the bounce of her breasts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivaan exhales. He aches. He longs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she laughs and bids her lover farewell, Ivaan closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as she descends the stairs, they open, glowing soft and aureate in the darkness. “A fine evening, Dame Ronnie,” he offers in a low rumble. “Shall we stay in Ironforge awhile?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
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